Saints of Georgia

Chapter One: No Homo

"I'm glad we're sinners," he told me "Because, without sin, Jesus died for nothing."

Laying in the park, flat on our backs feeling our bony bodies against the ground. Three thirty in the morning wasn't a soul in sight. The bottle touched his lips, so naturally that it looked like a part of him. When he was done he passed it to me, and I drunk from it also.

He looked weak, sick. He turned on his side, propping himself in a fetal position as he--what would imagine began to drown in self-pity. His aura sounded just like something by Culture Club.

Kit was right, we were sinners. We both attended St. Georgia's Home for Troubled Boys, that being a catholic boarding school where parents send their sons once they're stopped giving an area about them. It was like a boot camp run by nuns--if you can imagine that. I don't know who saint Georgia was either if I'm honest. Everyone probably just forgot about her, I bet she was brilliant, loyal maybe even a martyr. She could have been beautiful. But just like everything else, eventually, everyone stops giving a shit. You become another piece of history. The name on your gravestone will fade away, we'll never be anything more than dust.

Our vision wasn't great, kind of fuzzy, kind of lopsided. That's what the booze would do to you, put you in a position where you're not sure of anything anymore. You know how when you wake up, and you're not sure if your memories buzzing in your head are real or just dreams from that night. That's how I was feeling.

I had been feeling this way almost every night this week. It was a routine thing now, like brushing your teeth. You can't really be fucked to do it but you do anyway because that's just what you do. My dad would pound me if he saw me like this. Wasted in some random park at some ridiculous hour. When I should have been in my dorm doing homework or reading the bible or some shit. But I don't regret a thing, if I could go back and do it again I wouldn't change. This is who I am, this is how the world made me.

"Do you feel alright, Kit?"

"I'm just having a lie down--forever."

Kit, unfortunately, had a lot of issues with anger. Some people blamed it on his red hair, which was more of a charming mahogany colour than an embarrassing orange. That's why he ended up in here, his parents were convinced he was completely bonkers, borderline psycho. None of us was the madmen they thought we were, just troubled souls. All we ever really needed was a hug from time to time, maybe some therapy or medication. But here we are, trying to pray it all away.

He came to me one day, hands in our pockets, the hood on. It was 4:30pm-ish so we all had our afternoon to ourselves for doing whatever we pleased. We shared a room for all of that year. I never really spoke to him, he was kind of frightening. He'd yell in his sleep and sometimes have quite violent episodes. He wasn't coping well, that was obvious.

I was sitting on my bed reading a book. It was alright, it took my mind off things. And when you're in a world like ours, a little getaway was absolutely essential. Kit came trough the door, walked up and stood beside my bed. I slowly began to look up at him.

"Jesus is supposed to make everything right, isn't he?"

"I suppose so," I replied timidly, putting down my book. He sat on the edge of my bed.

"Do you believe that?" he asked

"I don't know. I'll believe anything, I'm just trying to get by."

"Will you come for a walk with me?"

I hesitated. "sure why not." what did I have to lose. My life? Well, it's no like I cared too much for that anyway.

On our 'walk' Kit told me a lot of stuff, stuff he's probably never told anyone else. He kept his head towards the ground, spitting out secrets in monotone. I don't think he even cared if I was listening, I think he just needed the company, or maybe just someone to talk at besides himself. He was only small, that being around the same height as me. He had clear skin unlike most teenagers, all pimply and whatever. He kind of looked like an angle (no homo) he was something else.

I don't even know how it happened, but before I knew it, we were blazing it in the church car park. We didn't talk much, we shared the joint, going back and forth until nothing remained. We've shared a lot of things since then. I wanted to go back to our room, I was feeling pretty tired. We made our way back, kind of accidentally shoving into each other as we went.

Many days like that followed weeks, months. Neither of us had any friends before then, we were kind of rejects. But we had each other now, and that was kind of comforting. The dorm room became a more safe environment. We always cherished that moment when we'd walk through the door, throw our backpacks on the ground and belly-flop into bed. We'd then continue to moan about how shit the day had been, both of us trying to out-moan the other.

Some nights, Kit would sneak it a bottle of red wine which we drank together on the floor, right there leaning against our beds. Sometimes we'd just talk, other times we'd play a card game or something and sometimes we'd wake up in the same fucking bed. We usually kept going until the bottle was empty. That's when we'd go to sleep.

"Try not to think about tomorrow." We'd tell each other. For that was the easiest way to slip into a depressive episode. We've got enough problems and not enough alcohol. We don't need anything else to weight us down.

I was in bed one night, wrapped in the duvet. My head rested peacefully upon my pillow, I was totally relaxed, bliss was upon me. I heard the door creek open ever so slightly. It frightened me, but I remained as still as I could. I opened my eyes, trying to get a look at whoever had entered our room. I couldn't quite see them yet but I heard them walking around the room, picking things up, looking at mine and Kit's possessions. When I thought the coast was clear, I rolled over just a little, as if I had done it in my sleep. As I did this, I heard the invader cough. The cough was light and high of pitch, it was a girl. I tried to focus my eyes on her as she stood there in our room. I noticed that Kit was not in his bed, he must have gone to the bathroom. The girl had very long, wavy dark brown hair. She has a thin figure, dressed in a black t-shirt and high-waisted shorts of a similar color. She moved with such grace, she turned towards my direction. She had large, dark eyes that were glowing in the darkness of the room. Our eyes met, we stared at each other for a minute before she smiled kindly at me. The more I looked into her eyes, the more I felt my erection strain against my trousers. She was probably the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. An angel has fallen and landed in my dorm room. I recognised her too. She went to the school across the road, A catholic boarding school also, but this one for girls. They insisted on keeping us seperate. I was wondering how the hell she got in here. But it didn't matter, nothing mattered.